


A cliche drunk call

by sherlocked221



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Drunken Confessions, M/M, Stupidity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 16:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6666448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlocked221/pseuds/sherlocked221
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My first Marvel fanfic and... yeah</p>
<p>Steve gets a phone call from Tony,</p>
            </blockquote>





	A cliche drunk call

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm english and I had this realization that other people might not use the term 'pissed' least of all Tony Stark, so forgive me for that and if you can think of a better word, get in touch!

The phone rings only, Steve hasn’t any idea where the hell it is. He can’t tell if it’s the apparently ‘ancient’ landline or his mobile, nor if it’s in one room or another. He tries to follow the sound as quick as possible, thinking ‘they could give me super strength but not super hearing!’ while running around his flat like a headless chicken. Then, out of chance, he moves a rucksack off his bedroom desk and the ringing sound blasts louder like a ton of bricks hitting his ears. Why did he have it set on loud?   
And here was another question, how to use it? Steve had always thought himself a fast learner, yet here he was, trying to work out what ‘swipe to answer’ meant. With a nervous, distrusting index finger, he prods at the bright screen a few times before a slipped tap answers it by accident. He places the phone up to his ear, half triumphantly, and timidly greets the silent hum of the other line.  
“Hello?” It dawns on him only then that he should have looked at the caller ID. Some new technology really brought him to a panic.   
“Heeeey, Cap ‘merica” The voice booming down from the other end happens to be fellow Avenger, if not worst enemy, Tony Stark. His jesting, joking tone is discernible from all others and, as a subconscious reaction, Steve sighs, grinding his back teeth.   
“What do you want?” He spits, a little harsher than meant to because, he doesn’t like to be mean. He is tired though, hence maybe why he panicked when the phone went and why he’s not really thinking much about what he’s saying. What the hell is the time anyways? Oh, getting on for midnight…  
“Now… now, Star spangled man… hu, that’s hard to say.” Tony slurs, “But… yeah, I’m the one with a plan today.” Steve is sure Tony burped that last bit and he’d would have been happy to ignore it had he not begun the main sentence with ‘star spangled man.’  
“Tony, are you drunk?” He asks, slightly concerned, more so not. What could Tony get up to drunk? Drunk flying his iron man suit, picking up ladies down at clubs and casinos. Fat lot of chance he had by the sounds of his condition that night.   
“Yup, Mr ‘merica. I’m pissed and I’ve really gotta tell you something that I know I will regret in the morning. But, y’know… it’s better to just get stuff off our glowing blue chests when we can instead of bottling it up all the time, y’know?”  
Steve silently laughs, just an inward chuckle that Tony didn’t have to know about. It isn’t any sort of affectionate thing, it’s merely a reminder of why Steve sometimes sticks with Tony. He is funny. “Where are you going with this, metal man?” He replies, his tone a few shades brighter than his greeting. He hears Tony snort, then take in a long, deep breath.  
“I’ve liked you… I wanna… ughhh… Look, you’re fit and I like that you’re cute and kind and I’ve never been able to do that.”  
Steve freezes. What is going on? “Do… what?” He manages to choke out.  
“Be nice. Like genuine. Go on. Gimmie a compliment. Go on! Go on, say something nice to me right now!” Tony almost shouts down the phone now.   
“You’re really funny, Stark.” He chuckles.  
“So, yeah. I like you, and where the hell are you because I really want to feel your abs. Have you ever? I mean, they are like chiselled, seriously! Where are you?”  
Steve doesn’t know whether to tell him or not. He looks down, idly at his chest to think about the request and nods. Yeah, he certainly is ‘fit.’ Ok, maybe it’s because his judgment is impaired due to him catching up on many decades of TV in one night, but he actually wants to see Tony. Closing his eyes as he says it, he tells him that he is at his flat. Tony knows exactly where that is, which is a scary thought, only blocked out by the sudden fear then he might try and drive in the state he is in.  
“Wait, do you want me to come and get you, if you’re drunk. You won’t be safe on the roads.” He says. Tony laughs, sounding closer than before.   
“Where I am, I don’t need roads.” His laugh rings in Steve’s ear, but he doesn’t get it. A joke?  
“Back to the future? Are you seriously not on 80’s movies yet? It’s a classic!”   
“70’s stuff at the moment, but where are you, Tony? You could hurt someone.”   
Suddenly, but not so unexpectedly, a whoosh sound wafts in from the open window in Steve’s living room. With the phone still up to his ear, he walks out of his bedroom and stands in front of it, half laughing, half feigning disappointment. Tony pulls the window further open so his Iron Man leg can fit in and in one fell swoop, his agile, armoured body ducks into his room. Shaking his head, Steve helps find a place for Tony’s suit and they sit on the sofa.  
“How long have you been flying out there?”   
“Once I stopped drinking.”


End file.
